Dahcotah eBook

Harpstenah knew well why the medicine feast was to
be given. Cloudy Sky could not, according to
the laws of the Sioux, throw off his mourning, until
he had killed an enemy or given a medicine dance.
She knew that he wanted to wear a new blanket, and
plait his hair, and paint his face a more becoming
color. But she knew his looks could not be improved,
and she went on cutting wood, as unconcernedly as
if the old war chief were her grandfather, instead
of her affianced husband. He might gain the good
will of her parents, he might even propitiate the spirits
of the dead: She would take his life, surely
as the senseless wood yielded to the strength of the
arm that was cleaving it.

“You will be at the feast too,” said Cloudy
Sky to the mother; “you have always foretold
truly. There is not a woman in the band who can
tell what is going to happen as well as you.
There is no nation so great as the Dahcotah,”
continued the medicine man, as he saw several idlers
approach, and stretch themselves on the grass to listen
to him. “There is no nation so great as
the Dahcotah—­but our people are not so great
now as they were formerly. When our forefathers
killed buffaloes on these prairies, that the white
people now ride across as if they were their own,
mighty giants lived among them; they strode over the
widest rivers, and the tallest trees; they could lay
their hands upon the highest hills, as they walked
the earth. But they were not men of war.
They did not fight great battles, as do the Thunder
Bird and his warriors.”

There were large animals, too, in those days; so large
that the stoutest of our warriors were but as children
beside them. Their bones have been preserved
through many generations. They are sacred to us,
and we keep them because they will cure us when we
are sick, and will save us from danger.

I have lived three times on earth. When my body
was first laid upon the scaffold, my spirit wandered
through the air. I followed the Thunder Birds
as they darted among the clouds. When the heavens
were black, and the rain fell in big drops, and the
streaked lightning frightened our women and children,
I was a warrior, fighting beside the sons of the Thunder
Bird.

Unktahe rose up before us; sixty of his friends were
with him: the waters heaved and pitched, as the
spirits left them to seek vengeance against the Thunder
Birds. They showed us their terrible horns, but
they tried to frighten us in vain. We were but
forty; we flew towards them, holding our shields before
our breasts; the wind tore up the trees, and threw
down the teepees, as we passed along.

All day we fought; when we were tired we rested awhile,
and then the winds were still, and the sun showed
himself from behind the dark clouds. But soon
our anger rose. The winds flew along swifter than
the eagle, as the Thunder Birds clapped their wings,
and again we fought against our foes.

The son of Unktahe came towards me; his eyes shone
like fire, but I was not afraid. I remembered
I had been a Sioux warrior. He held his shield
before him, as he tried to strike me with his spear.
I turned his shield aside, and struck him to the heart.